The Ghost Child
by it'sjust-Lex
Summary: Set within the depths of the original film by Guillermo del Torro, what would happen if there was another Sharpe? The story of Crimson Peak with the little girl in it starts after Thomas and Edith are married, and Thomas brings Edith back to Allerdale Hall.
1. Chapter 1: It's Only the Girl

**TheFlorence Elle Sharpe**

 _The story of Crimson Peak with the little girl in it starts after the death of Edith's father, when Thomas and Edith are married and Thomas brings Edith home to Allerdale Hall._

 _The idea behind my writing is that Florence and her actions slot into the existing story without changing it. That way, if you've seen the film you'll be able to imagine her into it, and it'll all make sense when the characters drop hints and slip up. It also means that there will be spoilers in this story, so I really must suggest that you watch the film first._

 _I do not write scenes chronologically, but as I think of them, because in my life writing is a continuous process that takes up most of my free moments. I do apologise, as sometimes it gets confusing when I jump from scene to scene, but I promise there will be a finished product one day_ :)

 _EDIT: whenever the words 'mama' or 'papa' or 'mummy' are written through this story, they are intended to be as English as possible. Sort of like how Thomas says ''Papa really had to put his back into it"in the film. Just to avoid confusion as I amreally not sure how to spell them properly! xD_

 _Thank you so much for reading!_

* * *

"Thomas!"

Thomas appeared in the doorway to the scullery and came briskly towards her.

"What is it?"

"I saw a woman in the elevator," Edith said matter-of-factly. Thomas frowned.

"It must have been Lucille."

"It _wasn't_ Lucille."

Thomas chuckled and checked the elevator shaft, which was empty.

"Then it must have been Florence."

"Who is Florence?" Edith asked quickly, a little nervous. Thomas smiled kindly and placed his hands on her shoulders."

"I'll fetch her for you," he said softly. He turned and leant over the rail to inspect the elevator shaft. "This damned old thing has a mind of its own; the wires are affected by the damp in the house. It's unavoidable I'm afraid. Goes down to the clay  
mines in the basement," he said quickly, smoothly. He looked again into her eyes and gestured towards the floor. "Never _ever_ go below this level."

Edith nodded, and Thomas's wonderful smile returned. At that moment, Lucille appeared from the hallway, and Thomas spun around to greet her.

"Ah, Lucille!"

"Thomas."

Thomas' joy did not leave him as he leaned toward the doorframe and called to the rest of the house before embracing his sister.

" _Florence!_ "

Edith stood awkwardly as the Sharpe siblings hugged quietly for a moment, before Lucille peered at her over her brother's shoulder and said "Welcome, Edith," in a friendly manner. Edith was a little surprised by her warmth, but smiled.

"Thank you."

Lucille nodded, and Thomas let go as she presented him with an envelope.

"A delivery. Your parts are here from Birmingham," she told him. "They're being held at the depo, for collection."

"Ah, wonderful," Thomas beamed.

A second passed as he took Lucille's coat and hung it up, then a small voice echoed from the doorway.

"Thomas?"

Edith jumped, then looked across to the door, where a little girl stood in a sweet grey skirt with braces over a whiteish blouse with little capped sleeves. On closer inspection, she was perhaps not so little, maybe up to thirteen years old.

Thomas turned and smiled when he saw her. This was a different smile though, a more loving one. He held out a hand to her.

"Come in, darling, and meet my wife." His tone was suddenly fond, something Edith had not yet heard. He clearly cared for this girl on a more guardian-esque level. Florence's face lit up at the mention of marriage, and she came in closer and took his  
hand.

Thomas grinned at Edith and put his other arm around the child.

"This is Florence, mine and Lucille's youngest sister," he said quietly. The girl beside him looked up at her with big eyes, and inclined her head politely. Edith nodded back with a smile as Thomas addressed the child.

"Florrie, this is Edith. She will be living here now, with us," he told her kindly. She looked back at him with those inquisitive eyes, and the smile widened as she bit her lip.

"Nice to meet you, Florence," Edith said kindly, tilting her head. The little girl's smile turned shy, and she moved a little closer to Thomas' side.

Edith noticed that her face, angular and beautiful, was very like her older siblings. She was especially alike Thomas in her stature, expression and mannerisms, as she'd briefly demonstrated, and for some reason this made Edith feel very warmed towards  
her.

However, what caught Edith's attention most strongly was the child's unusual colouration. Outside in the modern world she would be perceived differently, perhaps, but her copper coloured plaits and striking green eyes seemed so eerily out of place amongst  
the colouring of the others. She looked as though she was the child of the house itself, and the clay beneath it.

As Edith took in her appearance, Thomas nudged her forward, and the child walked shyly over to her, reaching to take her hand. Edith couldn't look away from her as she tugged, and knelt down to her level. Florence's smile was infectious, and Edith felt  
a surge of emotion as the little girl wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. She was freezing cold, and the movement was swift, almost too graceful for a child. Yet, Edith knew she was completely in love with her.

"Hello, Lady Sharpe. Welcome to our house," Florence said quietly, though her voice was kind. She was not scary in the slightest, and Edith felt a more natural smile cross her lips, and put her arms around her.

"Thank you," Edith said. She paused, then added "Please, call me Edith." Florence giggled adorably and Edith found it utterly gorgeous.

Thomas seemed to burst with pride, though Lucille stood silently in the doorframe, her gaze fixed on Florence like she was afraid to let her out of her sight. Given the state of the house, with its holy roof and rotting floorboards, Edith suspected she  
had good reason.

Barely a second passed before Lucille fidgeted and glided across to the fire, where she lifted the kettle to its hook. She did not look at them as she addressed the child.

"Florence, darling, go and fetch yourself something with sleeves. You will surely _freeze_ in that shirt," she said smoothly. Florence pulled away from Edith at once, looking a little sheepish, and ran past Thomas out of the smaller door. Thomas  
turned to watch her, and pressed his lips together as he sighed quietly. Edith stood up and dusted herself down, watching her husband, but started when she noticed Florrie had literally vanished from sight.

Lucille turned to face her, a smile on her lips as she inclined her head.

"She isn't used to meeting new people. Please excuse her."

Edith smiled, but it was tight, and she couldn't look away from where the child had last been. "Of course. She is very sweet."

Lucille and Thomas shared a glance that Edith did not see, and Lucille forced calmness into her voice.

"My dear, are you all right?"

Before Edith could answer, Thomas chuckled and that charming smile returned.

"Edith saw a shadow earlier, it was a little disconcerting."

Lucille chuckled, turning back to the fire to fetch the kettle.

"All that lives in this house are shadows and creaks and groans."

* * *

While Edith bathed, Thomas and Lucille sat side by side in their dark, colourless kitchen, following the ritual of brewing the _special_ tea. In response to Thomas' somewhat stilted mutterings, Lucille took his chin in her fingers and turned his  
face towards herself.

"You chose her. Why?" she whispered, eyes questioning. Thomas simply looked back, offering no answer. She guessed he didn't really know either, innocent as he was.

The slightly sinister mood was broken when Florence came skipping into the kitchen, having swapped her short sleeves for a big knitted jumper that completely swamped her. Lucille stopped what she was doing and looked at her with a slight frown as she  
went straight to Thomas, who wrapped an arm around her.

"There you are," he said brightly, smiling a her. "What do you think of Edith?"

Lucille twitched, and briefly glanced at her brother. What was he thinking, asking the child things like _that_?

"I like her," Florence said sweetly, and Thomas couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Lucille stood quickly and made a spectacle of arranging the jars neatly on their shelf.

"Good, I'm glad," Thomas told Florrie gently, rubbing her back.

* * *

Edith crouched on the floor behind Thomas as he poked the fire gently, murmuring to her in a comforting sort of way. She had begun to feel almost normal again after the sound of the chimneys, safe with him, when there was a creak at the door, and she  
just about leapt out of her skin.

Instantly, Thomas' arm was around her and her hands in his, and he shushed her with a chuckle.

"Steady now. It's only Florrie," he soothed. Edith collected herself, then looked at the doorway, where the little girl was indeed stood in a nightgown. "Are you all right, my love?" Thomas asked softly.

She hesitated for a moment, before walking into the room. She was in a simple, unembellished nightgown that reached the floor. Her hair, earlier twisted into braids laced with black ribbons, was loose. In the firelight the colour was a rich red, and Edith  
noticed how long and luscious her curls were. They reached her waist, similarly to Edith's. The little girl smiled, twisting her dress in her hands.

"I came to say goodnight. Lucille said Edith hoped for a warm welcome, so I thought I'd come and find you. I'm sorry for startling you," she said softly. Then she chuckled to herself and shrugged her shoulders. "I have a tendency to make people jump.  
I will try my hardest not to, I promise."

Edith smiled, somewhat relieved to have found someone even remotely reminiscent of the outside world. "Well, thank you, Florence. That's very kind." Little Florrie smiled, and Edith placed herself back on the chair and leaned forward, glancing at Thomas,  
who was watching her curiously. "Here, how about some tea before bed?" she asked kindly. Florence bit her lip, but didn't move as Thomas stuttered.

"Oh, _no_." He stood hurriedly and touched Edith's wrist. Confused, she retracted her arm. He smiled at her, then winked at Florrie. "Little girls must not drink tea before bedtime. It's not good for them," he said lightly. He walked forward and  
tapped his fingers under Florrie's chin. "I'll fetch you some milk from the kitchen."

He patted her shoulder and vanished, Florrie shrugging her little shoulders as Edith watched.

"Lucille says that was Mother's favourite rule," she said brightly, reaching over her shoulder to gather her hair so she could plait it. Edith noticed what she was doing and smiled, patting the settee beside her.

"Here, why don't you let me do that?"

Florence smiled her adorable smile and sat down beside Edith readily. As she turned her back Edith separated her hair into three parts and began to braid them.

"How come I never saw you back at home in America?" she asked curiously. This was a matter she had been thinking about constantly since the morning. Little Florrie shrugged.

"I stayed here while Lucille and Thomas travelled. I wasn't completely alone, sometimes the engineers were doing maintenance on the machine outside," she explained happily. At this point, Thomas reappeared with a glass of milk in his hand. He smiled when  
he saw the two of them, having heard Florrie's last sentence.

"Florence here knows the secrets of this house better than anyone else," he told Edith. He looked at Florence with a nod, and held the glass to her. "So if you hear anything strange, it's only her moving about. Isn't that right, darling?"

Edith looked at the back of Florence's head, which nodded happily as she looked up at her brother and quickly drank the small glass of milk. Somehow, she thought that that last sentence was more meaningful than it seemed. Thomas sighed and watched his  
sister with the same fond gaze as before.

"We had hoped to bring her across to America once we were settled, but I suppose that was never to be," he said thoughtfully, taking the empty glass from Florrie and setting it on the tray. After a moment, Edith finished the braid and tied the ribbon  
around it, letting it fall to Florence's spine and leaning to look at her.

"There, all done," she said kindly. Florrie beamed and turned to hug Edith tightly.

"Thank you. Goodnight, new sister," she said brightly, childishly. Edith couldn't help herself- she beamed too, and wrapped her arms around the child.

"Goodnight."

Florence let go and stood up, bouncing into her brother's arms. Thomas bent down over her and held her close to him, kissing her hair and squeezing her. He clearly adored her.

"Goodnight, Thomas."

"Goodnight, my darling."

They let go and smiled at each other, then Florence turned and ran to the door. Edith glanced only briefly at Thomas to gauge his reaction, but when she looked back the hallway was empty. Florrie had vanished.

"Where did she go?" she asked quietly, startled. Thomas chuckled gently.

"Like I said, she knows every nook and cranny of this house. She can appear and vanish wherever she likes. A typical inquisitive child with a talent for hiding," he promised her. He chuckled. "Sometimes we can go days without seeing her, Lucille especially."  
Edith was not convinced.

"She is your sister?"

"Yes."

"What age?"

"She's just gone ten."

Edith gasped.

"And you left her here _alone?_ "

Thomas pressed his lips together and regarded her cautiously. He looked at the floor, jaw tensing, then back at her. He sat down beside her.

"Florence is no incompetent child. She's suffered too much in her short life to remain innocent and untroubled. Lucille is always anxious to return to her, and we would _never_ do anything to frighten her. Trust me on that," he said honestly, his  
voice low.

Edith read the sincerity in his eyes, and relaxed after a moment. He smiled then, and passed her another cup of tea.

"Right. I'll have a bath, I think. If you happen to fall asleep, I won't wake you," he said softly, planting a kiss on Edith's forehead.


	2. Chapter 2: Morning in the Hall

When Edith awoke suddenly in the morning, she was comforted to find Thomas asleep beside her. She shuddered, glad to be back in the real world, as she was sure she'd had a nightmare. It took a moment for her to notice that she could hear music from downstairs.

Not wanting to disturb her husband, Edith slipped out of the bed and went to the door. As she went out to the hall she heard the piano more clearly, and quiet voices down in the parlour.

Lucille was sat playing the piano, with Florence perched on the stool beside her. As Lucille hummed and played the main melody, Florence added a sweet tune with one hand. Edith stood quietly in the doorway, watching them together.

Lucille smiled at Florrie encouragingly whenever she glanced up at her, and Florence in turn was nodding her head as her little fingers flitted over a few keys. In Lucille's eyes, Edith could see pure adoration.

Edith stepped further into the room to examine the latin words carved above the fireplace, but Lucille noticed her and the music stopped abruptly.

"To the hills, we raise our eyes," Lucille translated. Embarrassed, Edith blushed.

"I'm sorry, I interrupted you. What was that music?"

"Edith!" Florence chirped happily. Edith smiled at her as Lucille smiled a little and ran a hand through her long hair.

"Not at all. It is the lullaby I used to sing to Thomas when we were young. I play it for Florence now," she said smoothly, continuing to stroke Florrie's hair. Edith smiled a little as she imagined it.

"I can just see you in here as children," she wondered softly, glancing around the room. "You, playing the piano. Thomas coming up with wild inventions..." Her voice was dreamy, and Lucille couldn't help but chuckle. She tapped Florrie's shoulder and she looked up at her.

"Why don't you go and wake Thomas?"

The little girl nodded and hopped off the stool, running out of the room and up the huge staircase. Edith watched her go with a chuckle, and Lucille smiled sadly.

"We were not allowed in here as children. We were confined to the nursery, in the attic. Mother played the piano, though. Sometimes we'd hear her through the floor." She sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "That's how we knew she was back in the country."

* * *

Darting out of the parlour as Lucille had ordered her to, Florence ran all the way up the stairs and along the hall to her brother's bedroom. She was used to her sister sending her out of the room when they had other people in the house- Lucille was obsessive over keeping her safely out of reach. Some people did terrible things to little girls, she said.

Florence stopped to peek through the slightly open door, and saw that Thomas was still asleep on his side of the bed. Biting her lip to stop herself grinning, Florrie slipped through the door and crept across the room.

When she was close enough, the little girl threw herself onto the bed, where Thomas awoke just in time to catch her.

" _Boo_!"

He wrapped his arms around her and growled into her hair as she burst into fits of giggles, and rolled so as to trap her in his arms.

"Good _morning_ ," he said incredulously. "What do _you_ want at this time of the day?"

His tone was teasing, and Florrie stuck her bottom lip out in a fake pout as she answered somewhat honestly.

"Breakfast. Lucille said I had to wait until you got up, and you were taking too long," she whined. Thomas chuckled and squeezed her tighter.

"Oh, you poor thing." He released her and pushed himself up against the headboard, before stretching and pulling her across his lap, where she curled up and closed her eyes. Thomas sighed and his smile dissipated as he ran a finger along her cheekbone. She was underweight, so it was too obvious under her skin.

"I'm sorry, my love, but I don't think we have anything more than what's left of Lucille's porridge. I know you hate it," he mumbled sadly. Florrie opened an eye to look up at him, and snuggled a little more into his lap.

"It's ok, Edith can have mine," she answered lightly. Thomas' heart melted; she was so kind, this little girl. He was both grateful and astonished that he and Lucille had managed to raise her into even a half decent human being, what with how useless their parents had been.

"Well then, you can have mine," he whispered to her, smiling once more. Lucille had planned on going to buy such things as eggs and milk soon, anyway.

* * *

Once Edith had washed and dressed, Thomas was already out working on his machine and Lucille had left to buy groceries. Florence was sat alone at the kitchen table scraping every last bit out of her bowl of porridge when Edith went in to find her, the little dog scurrying around at her feet. The little girl smiled when she entered and pushed a second bowl across the table towards her.

"Morning, Florrie," Edith smiled, walking to the table. Florence beamed.

"Good morning. We figured you wouldn't be long, so Thomas made your porridge too. It's still warm," she said brightly. Edith chuckled and sat down, picking up the bowl and taking a bite. It had the same bitter taste as the tea, but it wasn't quite as bad as when Lucille made it. Edith suspected that was just something she'd have to get used to.

"It looks like it's just you and me this morning," Edith said thoughtfully. Then she had an idea, and leaned across to smirk at Florrie. "How about you show me where you like to hide? I won't tell anyone, I promise. I don't even know my way around yet."

Little Florence's eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment, before she checked herself and frowned down at her now empty bowl.

"Lucille says I'm not to. She says sometimes the floor is too weak for anyone bigger than me, that it will break."

Her voice was sad, maybe even a tad frustrated. Edith wondered whether Lucille was a little overly protective of her little sister.

"Alright. How about we go outside? There's no snow yet, we can take our little doggy for a walk," she decided. Florence smiled and nodded, her eyes gleaming. Edith wondered if her siblings ever offered to play with her any more.

The young woman stood and smoothed her dress, then took their bowls to the sink and rinsed them. As she turned back to the table, she reached out and took Florence's hand, and smiled at her.

"Come on, let's fetch our coats."

For most of the morning, Edith walked around the vast expanses of the hall's grounds with Florrie's hand clasped tightly in hers as the little dog ran around them chasing its ball. The child giggled and sang and skipped along, clearly enjoying every second of being outside with someone less serious than her sister and less busy than her brother.

After some time, Lucille returned, and Edith couldn't help but notice how Florence seemed uneasy.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" she asked gently, looking at the child with kind eyes. Florence fidgeted, and looked over her shoulder at the house.

"Lucille will be looking for me. She doesn't like it when I leave the house without her knowing," she said softly. Edith frowned, but ran a hand through Florence's hair.

"You go on back, then. I will be fine out here," she promised. Florence looked at her and smiled, although the sparkle had gone.

"Ok. Don't forget lunch," she said sweetly, before turning and running back across the grounds towards the huge house. It loomed like a monster over her, a creature looking to devour her as she grew nearer, and Edith watched her vanish into a secret door somewhere near the back of it. Edith couldn't help but think of Thomas saying 'Florence knows this house better than anyone'.

When Edith found Thomas' workshop in the attic, she was taken aback. Drawings, designs and mechanisms hung from every wall, and the floor was a maze of workbenches and to-be-fixed machines that weaved around the beams that stretched floor to ceiling.

Edith could see Thomas at the back, sat at a desk with Florence on his knee, clearly showing her the workings of something. For a minute or two, Edith stood quietly, leaning in the doorway, just watching them together.

Thomas seemed alive, his voice bright as he pointed out every little moving part of whatever it was on the desk. Florence watched him with huge eyes, listening to everything he said and helping him to unscrew and deconstruct mechanisms- his other hand was on her waist, keeping her from falling as she leant over the desk. The tartan blanket Edith had seen in their bedroom was wrapped around the both of them, as it was freezing cold up here. She continued to watch them for another moment, enjoying the fact they hadn't noticed her arrival.

* * *

(Bit of a gap. Sorry!)


	3. Chapter 3: The Ghost Child

When Edith was sleeping, Thomas crept out of the bed and left the room. He moved along to the other side of the house, where Florence's bedroom was, and went in. She was wrapped in blankets, propped against the wall as Lucille stroked her hair and read to her. She was a very sick child, and occasionally had very bad days and nights. Tonight was one of them.

Florence looked up and gave a pained smile when she saw him, holding out a hand.

"Papa."

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. His heart breaking at her use of the nickname, Thomas moved across to the bed and sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms and cradling her. Lucille continued to stroke the child's hair, and after a moment it became clear that she had drifted off to sleep.

"She couldn't sleep without you," Lucille whispered. She sighed, her voice becoming genuinely pained. "She is worsening, and still we cannot afford the medicine."

Thomas sighed and rested his chin atop Florrie's head.

"Soon," he promised his sister. "Then she can live and grow as a normal little girl."

"I don't think she could continue like this for much longer. She is older now," Lucille whispered. Thomas didn't reply, just looked down at the child and kissed her hair again, nestling his cheek against her head. After a moment, he bit his lip.

"I will not let her die. Of all things this world can take from me, it will never have _her,_ " he swore. Lucille watched him sorrowfully, then hardened her features and sighed sharply.

"I hope you mean that," she said darkly, leaning forward and kissing Florrie's forehead. Thomas refused to look at her as she stroked the child's hair once more and stood, placing the book on the bedside table and leaving the room. Thomas wasn't going anywhere.

(Much happens between this and the next chapter that I have notes to write. In the meantime, I apologise for the jump.)


	4. Chapter 4: Florence Elle Sharpe

Edith was horrified as she watched Lucille burn the pages of her novel.

"You killed her baby," she gasped. Lucille turned and glared at her.

"No I didn't."

She turned and walked back to the dresser. "None of _them_ ever fucked Thomas. It was mine. It was born wrong." She shrugged her shoulders. "We should have let it die at birth, but..." She paused, and sighed heavily. "I wanted it."

There was a moment of quiet, then Lucille turned to face Edith, leaning against the bedpost. Her smile would have been touching if it wasn't for the woman wearing it.

"Thomas with a child," she said quietly, smiling a little at the memory. "He's perfect." She glanced at Edith. "It happened once before. I couldn't bear to break him like that, that's why we kept the first one."

Edith's heart dropped as she realised what Lucille meant.

"Florrie..."

Lucille smiled then, genuine and proud.

"Florence Elle Sharpe. Heir to the Sharpe Mines and the legacy of Allerdale Hall. If I were only an aunt she'd be the honourable child of a talented engineer," she crooned. Edith was horrified.

"She's your..."

"My daughter, yes. I must say, I thought you were brighter. It amazed me when none of the others noticed that she was _far_ too young to have been born before her supposed Mother died, but then Thomas would have told them she was only a half sister."

Lucille sighed and stepped forward. She picked out strands of Edith's hair and began to plait them as she crooned./p

"Thomas and I would do anything for that little girl. That's why he pours so much effort into his machine- if it worked, we could afford to send her to school. She could escape this life, this place. And we could afford to tend to the house, restore it to its former glory so that when she grows up and comes home she has something to be proud of..." She was dreaming now, her eyes teary. Edith couldn't understand.

"But women have been tortured and _killed_ in this house..." Lucille glared at her.

"I kill for my child," she snapped. Edith recoiled. "She is never usually allowed to spend time with her sisters-in-law, to become attached. The first one thought she was a ghost- she was only small. I wouldn't want her to be upset once they were dead. But _you..."_

Lucille tilted her head, her lips a thin line. She reached forward and traced a bony finger along Edith's jaw.

"Thomas has slipped up with you. He let you look after her, grow to love her. And the way she _talks_ about you, oh, I don't doubt that she adores you too. You've stolen my little girl's love from me," she whispered dangerously. Edith sat rigid as she snipped off the plaited lock of hair with her scissors. A slow smile spread across Lucille's lips, scarier than ever.

"I'd better steal it back," she breathed darkly. Edith gasped, and felt the hot tears run down her face. Lucille turned and walked across to the dresser.

* * *

"(the grapple- a scene I'm working up to writing when I have plenty of time on my hands ^_^ )

* * *

As Thomas' body got heavier with his death, Lucille dropped him with a sob and screamed. At exactly this moment, Florrie stepped further into the room, where she'd stayed unnoticed after seeing Edith in the elevator. Thomas stirred weakly, and saw her.

"Florrie," he gasped, lifting his hand. The ghost of a grimace flitted across his lips, guilt stricken, and as Lucille turned around her face fell when she saw her daughter stood there.

"Florence, sweetheart..."

Lucille reached towards the child with bloody fingers, her expression one of agony. Florrie stumbled backwards away from her, eyes wide with terror. Realising the true damage she had done, Lucille let go of Thomas and ran from the room, screaming as she went.

The clanging of the elevator as Edith fought to escape didn't register in Florrie's mind as she stared at her father's bloody form. Helpless, she cried out and dropped to her knees beside him. Thomas managed to wrap his arms around her and pull her to his chest, where he buried his lips in her hair. Florence cried into his shirt.

"She killed you," she choked out, gripping his shirt in her hands. Thomas sighed, too weak to speak.

I...I'm sorry," he breathed. Florence looked up into his face and took it between her hands, careful to avoid the stab wound in his cheek. She frowned to mask the burning tears.

"Don't be sorry, Papa."

Unable to ignore the image of Lucille covered in his blood, Florrie's breath stuck in her throat, and her eyes filled with tears. She stroked his face and touched her forehead to his.

"Edith will know that you love her," she promised him. She pecked his lips, the way she had always done since she was very small, and he smiled. Florrie gazed at him, frenzied, then had an idea.

"Haunt _me_ ," she gasped, overcome with emotion. Thomas frowned at her, growing weaker again, and she stared at him.

"Haunt me, Papa! _Haunt me, please_..." she begged, crying freely. As Thomas smiled his last smile and looked into the eyes of his sister- his daughter- for the last time, he gave a tiny nod. He would try.

"My love is yours, Florence," he breathed.

Florrie collapsed onto his chest, and cried. She gripped his shirt in both hands, felt his arms grow heavy and lifeless around her. She followed his every breath, as they slowed to nothing. His heart stuttered, then stopped, and she was left in the arms of a corpse, cold already because of the cold house they had always lived in.

* * *

Edith gasped as Thomas' gruesome apparition slipped away from beneath her fingers. Whether he loved her or not, it no longer mattered, because he and his cruel sister were dead and Edith was leaving with Alan.

She turned and tried to walk away, but remembered something else that seemed to hold her there. One key element that had made her life here even a little pleasant, at times.

"Florence," Edith whispered aloud. Eyes wide, she turned and stared at the house. The doctor shook his head.

"What? No! We must go..."

"I _can't_ leave her there, all alone. Having her family away in America is one thing, having them _dead_ is another."

"Thomas and the Lady were monsters. What makes the youngest one any different?" Alan insisted. Edith glared at him.

"Florence is _ten years old_. She never once frightened me, lied to me, hurt me. She is a good child who deserves a life, no matter what her parentage!"


	5. Chapter 5: Broken Family

Florrie lay there for what she thought was some time, refusing to look at her father's dead, hollow face. She was so wrapped up in grief for a father rather than a brother, that it took her a moment to realise that the new voice echoing from the main hall was calling her name.

Lethargic, Florrie untangled herself from the body's arms and stood, dusting herself off without looking at him. At it. There was no Thomas in there any more, no Papa.

As a second thought she leaned down and prised the ring off of his left finger, his wedding ring, and slipped it onto her own. She would never lose it.

Still refusing to look at his ruined face, Florence turned and darted out of the room, moving towards the woman's voice.

Florrie said nothing as she reached the staircase, relieved to see that it was Edith stood there. Remaining semi-hidden in the shadows, she called out in a clear, unwavering voice.

"Edith?"

"Yes, sweetheart, it's me. Where are you?"

Florrie clenched her jaw, and went against all the rules her mother had ever told her to step out into plain view. Edith's face was a picture of relief when she saw her.

"Here," she said calmly. Edith smiled, teary eyed.

Florrie slipped carefully down the stairs and stopped just short of her, tilting her head. She knew Edith could see the tear streaks that marked her face, and attempted to rub them away with her sleeve. Edith smiled sadly, and held out her hand. It shook with nerves.

"Come with me, Florence. Leave this place," she said quietly. Florrie stood perfectly still for a moment, and became aware of a shape in the corner behind Edith. As she looked closer, she saw that it was a ghost, and recognised Thomas's stature. Edith waited for an answer.

"Thomas wants me to take you," she whispered gently, looking at Florrie with apologetic eyes. Florrie didn't shift her gaze from her father's ghost over Edith's shoulder as she spoke. He nodded once.

"Lucille is dead too."

Edith nodded shakily. Slowly, Florrie tilted her head to the other side, childish once more.

"You killed my Mama," she said quietly, eyes flicking back to Edith. Thomas' apparition seemed to tense as Edith looked down.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm sorry..."

Florrie's eyes filled with tears and she wrung her hands, unable to look at the ghost again.

"But that's _ok_ , because she... she killed my Papa," she stuttered in a shaky voice. Edith's eyes were wet too as she nodded.

"Yes."

And then Florence ran forward and threw her arms around Edith, burying her face into her gown.

"He's _dead_ ," she cried, the pain in her young voice breaking Edith's heart. Edith found her resolve and wrapped her arms tightly around the little girl.

"I know, honey. I'm sorry," she whispered. "I _promise_ I will look after you, I will love you as much as he did because I loved him and he loved you more than anything else in this world." Edith found herself growing frantic, and she leaned back to hold Florrie's face between her hands. The child watched her with those stunning green eyes.

"No, he loved you. He does. He wants you to live," she whispered. Edith frowned in confusion, and Florrie blinked through her tears, but her voice still broke. Edith found nothing to say, simply pulled Florence close and held her tightly as the little girl cried for her father. Her father, who had fallen in love with Edith, escaped his past, and so entrusted her with his most valuable possession.

Edith was hit by a wave of emotion, and squeezed her eyes shut. She and Florrie stood there for a short while, imagining what life was to be like for them now.


	6. Chapter 6: Florence Elle Cushing

Edith rewrote her story in the months after her recovery. Though some specific memories of her ordeal were not pleasant, there were others that made her feel warm, sad even that there hadn't been more time. She had of course been married to a man who  
/had fallen in love with her, which had then freed him from the confines of his past. She had also been able to save the little girl that knew nothing of the world outside Allerdale Hall, and Crimson Peak.

The new version of Edith's novel was focused on a little girl, whose father was a dark, troubled widower who loved his daughter very dearly. In the end, though not without complication, the father found love with a young woman and in turn found his daughtera  
new mother to look after her. Life took a better turn for these characters.

This evening, as Edith finished typing up the manuscript at her desk, Florence was curled up on the settee under a blanket, fast asleep before the fire. Edith paused for a moment, and looked across at her.

The poor child was constantly exhausted, and spent much of her time asleep on that settee. She was still very sick, but was getting better slowly now Edith had gotten her the medicine she needed, and had persuaded Alan to look after her, now that he was  
/more or less able again. At first he had been sour, resentful of the idea that any trace of the Sharpe siblings should be present in Edith's life, although over time he had realised that Florence was of course innocent, and that Edith loved her dearly.  
/Edith wasn't sure when she would get around to telling him the truth about the child's parentage, which could well have been the reason for her sickness in the first place.

Edith sighed and finished typing the sentence she was on. She tidied her desk, then stood and moved across to Florence, crouching in front of her. She reached forward and stroked her hair.

"Florence?"

The little girl stirred, and opened her eyes just enough to see Edith's gentle smile.

"I'm going to bed now. Do you want to stay here?" she whispered. Florence nodded weakly, her eyes shutting. Edith leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Alright. Goodnight, darling."

Florence drifted out of consciousness quickly after Edith left the room. She still felt terrible, knowing that if she even tried to move she would most likely be reacquainted with her last meal.

The young girl lay still for some time, unable to properly sleep but resting all the same, until she became aware of a slight depression in the blanket over her shoulder.

Florrie's heartbeat quickened, and she fought to stay still, her rational mind a little cloudy as she tried to figure out what that could be.

If felt very much like a hand.

* * *

 **1909**

"Miss Cushing, I really must insist that you do not venture back to that house."

Dr McMichael glared at her, retaining his professionalism in the presence of others at the surgery but with his eyes clearly portraying his opinion as someone she'd known since childhood.

"Alan, it was my home. I can't forget that, as much as you might wish for me to," Florence replied steadily, watching him carefully. She knew he hated to admit it, but she was right. Still, the gentleman cleared his throat, glanced around the surgery  
and took her hand, pulling her into his office and shutting the door.

"My darling, you were trapped there for so long. A little girl with no children to play with, no interactions with the outside world. And not to mention your mother's practices..."

Florence pursed her lips, but did not let herself say what she wanted.

"It was not an unhappy childhood," she reminded him. _The house was too big to ever feel trapped, anyway. And I had the ghosts._

Alan simply sighed. "Perhaps not from your point of view. But so much happened there, so much killing. Not to mention the terrible creature who birthed you, and that disloyal son of a..."

Florence soured instantly.

"Don't speak of them like that," she snapped. Her eyes were dangerous, just like Lucille's had been, and Alan checked himself, ashamed that he'd let himself get carried away again.

"Florrie, I'm sorry, I just..." Florence was already reaching for the door as his face fell with guilt. "You loved them, I know. You were an innocent little girl."

The young woman refused to look at him as she undid the bolt on the door and pulled it open.

"My father loved Edith. He died saving her, and you will do well to remember that. As for the house, I grew up there. As much as I enjoy living here with Edith and yourself, the Hall will always be a part of who I am," she answered calmly, and left. Alan  
rubbed his face with his hands, and stepped to the doorway. He really wasn't very good at parenting, or to be more accurate, being a guardian.

When he looked down the corridor, Florence had vanished. _Old habits die hard_ , Alan chuckled to himself.

* * *

"Florence, darling, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost," Edith said brightly, enjoying her own little joke. As she poured tea, Florence bit her lip.

"That's the thing," she said softly. "I haven't, not in a while."

Edith paused. She knew what this meant to Florence, and wasn't sure she wanted to pursue it. It was a moment before her hand moved to the sugar lumps- she'd become rather fond of the sweetness after living in the Hall.

"He hasn't been to visit you?" she asked quietly, watching her stepdaughter carefully. Florence shook her head slightly, lips pursed.

"Not since your anniversary," she whispered. Edith sighed a little and set down the teaspoon.

"Oh, darling, you know our anniversary is difficult for him. Perhaps he's just taking a little time to himself- he spends much more time in our world than most spirit people do," she suggested calmly, hoping this would put her daughter at ease. She would  
do anything for Florence, as she had done for the past eight years, and loved her dearly, but she couldn't afford to revisit their past. That would be far too dangerous, and inspire a lot of pain.

Florence knew this, and she respected Edith's wishes. But she just missed her father so much. Even after all these years, she slept much better when she could feel him in the room with her, and she talked to him all the time under her breath.

* * *

noshade=""

I think eventually there will be more about Edith and Florence, I keep having ideas ^_^)

 _Thank you for reading!_


	7. Alternative Universe

So I had this brainwave a while back, and decided to just write it. This is an alternative ending to the story of Crimson Peak with the little girl in it, that continues from Edith's escape.

* * *

You promised you wouldn't fall in love with anyone else!"

"Yes, but it _happened_."

Lucille paused, horror clouding her face, then clawed at him with a sob and plunged her knife deep into the hollow beneath his collar bone. As Thomas staggered back to the wall, eyes wide with the pain, Lucille drew the knife out to go at him again. Shewas  
overtaken by rage, and heartbreak, but still could not see that she was not thinking straight.

" _Mummy! Stop it!_ "

Lucille froze again as a broken scream cut through the air. She blinked rapidly, out of her trance, and stared as Thomas looked into her eyes with some weak hint of warning.

"Florrie," he gasped. The ghost of a grimace flitted across his lips, guilt stricken, and as Lucille turned around her face fell when she saw her daughter stood in the doorway, trembling.

"Florence, sweetheart..."

Lucille reached towards the child with bloody fingers, her expression one of agony. Florrie stumbled away from her, eyes wide with terror.

"Papa?"

" _Run,_ Florence."

Realising the true damage she had done, Lucille let go of Thomas and staggered backwards herself, before the rage overtook her again and she reached out and grabbed Florence by the waist as she listened to her father and tried to run away.

"No! You _betrayed_ me! You neglected your ownmother for the stupid woman your father married!" Lucille wailed as she tightened her arms around her daughter, locking her still and pressing her cheek to her ear. Florencepanicked, and struggled,  
crying now, having seen her father choking and fighting to stay conscious from the pain on the floor. She continued to cry, repeating "please, mama" over and over, but her mother took no heed, blinded by rage that was, really,aimed at Edith.

Lucille snarled and spun the child around to face her, then took her by the throat and pinned her down on the bed, a strange mixture of guilt and passion coursing through her veins.

"I love you, my darling," she crooned as Florrie kicked at her and tried to peel her hands away. "I will always love you, everything I've ever done is to protect you. A mother's love is unparalleled in this world..."

At this second, as Florrie began to weaken and her legs stopped kicking, Thomas grimaced as he forced himself to stand, and could see just enough to notice Edith appear in the doorway.

"If you love her so much, let go of her," the young woman warned, her voice even despite her clear terror. Lucille turned to glare at her, but she clenched her jaw. In that moment Edith was both relieved that she'd stopped Lucille suffocating her daughterand  
horrified that she'd caught the murdering psychopath's attention.

Edith had just enough time to turn and sprint to the elevator before Lucille had thrown Florence with force at the dresser and tore out of the room after her, screaming as she went. Florence's small body hit the dresser with a crack, and slid to the groundwith  
a light thud.

The clanging of the elevator as Edith fought to escape didn't register in Thomas' mind as he stumbled across the room to where Florence had landed in a heap. She was unconscious, but breathing, so he put a hand on her cheek and tried to rouse her, hisown  
fear making him tremble. Lucille had made a good job of strangling her. He could lose everything he had, but please, God, not his little girl.

"Florence? Please come back to me, sweetheart... We'll get out of here, I promise..."

After a moment or two, the child stirred, and her eyes flew open as she spluttered and coughed and realised what had happened. She relaxed when she saw that her father had her, but whimpered.

"Daddy, it hurts," she croaked, breaking Thomas' heart. He nodded, and stroked her face, noticing how she'd hit the corner of the dresser, and she really wasn't lying straight.

"I know, love. Be brave," he whispered. Little Florrie nodded and bit her lip. Taking a deep breath, Thomas scooped the little girl up into his arms and clenched his teeth against her whimpers and the pain in his chest as he forced himself to stand. Thewhole  
process took him far longer than he'd have liked, but he was out and in the hallway just as the elevator came back up empty.

"We don't stop until you kill me, or I kill you!"

Edith held her ground, brandishing the shovel, as Lucille continued to scream at her. The blizzard was so thick now that she could see nothing around her, but she was certain she could make out a shape staggering towards them from the house.

" _I said don't touch her, Lucille!_ " Thomas snarled, furious. Edith's heart leapt with relief at hearing his voice. Lucille's eyes widened, and she turned to face him, her expression pained.

"But Thomas..."

Thomas simply glared at her, his expression terrifying as he loomed over her. He had Florence on his left hip, held tightly against his side, her arms around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder against the cold. Lucille seemed to cower away ashe  
gritted his teeth.

" _Enough!_ I am in _love_ with _Edith_ , and I will protect her. You were only ever my _sister_ , and to my discredit I let you corrupt my mind. We are _finished_ ," he growled. Lucille saw the fire in his eyesand  
recoiled, hesitated, then turned her gaze on Edith. Her sudden calm was deeply unsettling as she glided towards her.

"Either you kill me, or I kill you," she whispered, utterly crazed. There was a moment of stillness, and Edith could swear she saw regret in those eyes. But it was too late now. Before Thomas could do anything but turn Florence away, Lucille screamedand  
lunged at Edith.

In pure terror, Edith frantically swung the spade, and hit her smack across the jaw. Lucille collapsed to the ground, having been killed instantly. Edith was strangely glad she had not suffered, for the sake of the child.

"I heard you the first time," she muttered.

She gasped at the air, dropping the spade and finding herself hysterical. She did not struggle as Thomas ran forward to catch her, wrapping her tightly in his other arm. He had jumped right over the body of his sister.

"Edith, darling, I'm sorry for everything. So sorry..." he mumbled, frenzied. Edith simply concentrated on breathing, clutching at his bloodied shirt as she allowed him to hug her close to him, rubbing her arm for warmth. She figured that her allowinghim  
to touch her would show him she accepted his apology.


	8. AU Chapter 2

Thomas let neither Edith nor Florence out of his sight for the next three weeks.

He had the workers gather what could be salvaged from the house, and pack it into boxes. It turned out all he wanted to keep were clothes, perhaps a few books from the library, his mechanics, keepsakes from his and Florrie's once innocent childhood. Everythingelse  
was a part of the past that he was only too glad to be rid of.

While the men worked, the three stayed in the warm little room beneath the Post Office, where Thomas and Edith had once spent the night together. Edith's friend the Doctor, Alan, had been taken to hospital, where he was being treated for his wounds. Inthe  
meantime Thomas had asked him for strict instructions on caring for both Florence and Edith and making their recovery as comfortable as possible. Florence had broken ribs and muscle damage in her neck, which bruised horribly, whilst Edith hadescaped  
with a few scrapes and was mostly in shock.

Thomas refused to leave their bedside for anything, and carefully cleaned and bandaged wounds when required. He mixed medicine as Edith watched and, rather than force his wife into his company, slept in the armchair in the corner of the room, despitehis  
discomfort. Edith could see that he was racked with guilt over the entire occurrence, and in agony from his own stab wound, but he did not complain.

One night, after about a week, she awoke to find him sat reading what remained of her novel by candlelight. Checking that Florrie was breathing easily beside her, Edith watched him for a moment, seeing the tears in his eyes as the memories plagued himagain.

It took much effort for Edith to move her hand from where it was tucked under Florrie's shoulder with her arm around her, but she stretched it out towards him and tried to whisper.

"Thomas," she gasped. He looked up suddenly, startled. His face was a picture of sorrow, and Edith felt her heart break. She didn't want him to suffer.

"Lie with us," she breathed, her voice breaking. Something flickered in Thomas' face, perhaps relief, or hope. He slowly set down the manuscript and stood up, moving hesitantly across to the bed.

Edith was on her side, with Florence curled up in front of her, so out of respect Thomas lay down behind her with space between them and simply placed a hand on her shoulder. He was afraid to upset her, but Edith wanted him to know it wasok.

She reached and lifted his hand from her shoulder, then pulled it around her waist so he could feel Florrie's hands too. Hesitantly, gingerly, Thomas shuffled a little closer and pulled her to him. Edith smiled as she stroked his hand with a finger andfelt  
his breath in her hair.

"It's ok," she breathed weakly.

At the movement in the bed, Florence stirred, and Thomas felt her little fingers weave through his as she noticed his presence. He couldn't help his smile as her weak voice floated through the darkness.

"Edith?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Florrie paused for a moment, and Edith heard her biting her lip.

"Will you be my new mama?" she asked quietly, nervously. Edith smiled to herself, and heard Thomas hold his breath. She moved her lips to Florence's hair and kissed it softly.

"Of course I will," she whispered passionately. "I'll never leave you, I promise."

Thomas exhaled behind her, and Edith could practically feel his relief. Tomorrow, they were leaving, going back to America at first, to start their new life together. To live as a normal family- husband, wife, and daughter.

* * *

Thomas and Florence never did weep for Lucille. At least, they never mourned in front of Edith. As twisted and evil as she was, she was still Thomas' sister and Florence's mother. She'd protected and cared for them both as children.

In a strange contrast, Edith found it relatively simple to pass for Florence's mother. The fact she was wise beyond her years drew credit to the notion that she and Thomas were simply childhood sweethearts who had eventually settled down together. Neitherof  
them really looked old enough to have a ten year old child, but they were so happy together and Florence was clearly so loved and cared for that nobody ever stopped to pry.

They'd bought a small house with a patch of land out in the most rural village they could find outside London, where Edith wrote her stories and Thomas rebuilt his workshop in the attic. Before the tragedy of Allerdale Hall, he'd actually got his machineto  
work, and so wasted no time in posting copies of his now completed plans and proposals to various companies all through the country. He was starting to find success.

While her husband worked at the final stages of building a career that would sustain them for the rest of their lives, Edith focused almost all of her attention on Florence's education. As the little girl had never seen much of the great outdoors andmost  
certainly had never travelled beyond the gates of their own estate, Edith knew that to send her straight to a public school would be terribly cruel. The poor child had never been allowed to interact with other people as a general rule, let alonemeet  
someone her age, so Edith knew she would have to take small, carefully measured steps to give Florence the best chance at continuing her education with other children at school.

Admittedly, Lucille had done an excellent job of home schooling Florence at the hall, and she had no problems with anything academic. By any standards she was a bright girl, and this gave Edith hope that with time she would be able to pick up whateverwas  
being learned in class with no issues.

In an attempt to tackle Florence's distrust of the outside world, Edith took her 'daughter' out almost every day, to parks and libraries and other small towns besides their own. At first Florence had been terribly afraid of these experiences, and clutchedat  
Edith's hand with a desperate grip, but with time she had learned that other people were not as bad as Lucille always told her, and that in fact one's life could be enriched by forming friendships with others outside of their home and family.

Every day when they returned home she would run up to the attic, where Thomas would ask her what she'd learned that day, and she would launch into a bright description of even the most usual of interactions. Thomas took great joy in watching her progression,and  
frequently told Edith how wonderful she was and how Florence would grow up to be a better person thanks to her.

At the present moment, Edith was sat on the sofa in the living room of their new home, a very sleepy Florence curled up in her arms as she waited for her father to prepare her medicine. Thomas knelt before them, humming softly as he mixed and measuredout  
the dose, dripping it into a syringe with the utmost precision.

Edith rubbed Florrie's arm encouragingly- the little girl hated injections. She much preferred it when Thomas administered her doses to when Alan did, but it didn't make the sensation of the needle in her arm any less uncomfortable. Dr McMichael had recentlysuggested  
she be swapped from pills to jabs to allow the drug to take action through her bloodstream faster, and of course Thomas and Edith had agreed. All they wanted was for Florence to be healthy.

Thomas finished preparing the needle, and glanced guiltily at Edith, who smiled.

"Okay, darling, are you ready?" Florence opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, and though her brow furrowed and she bit her lip, she nodded, clutching Edith's arm tightly. Thomas smiled softly.

"Good girl. Give me your hand."

Obediently, Florence stretched out an arm and closed her fingers around her father's outstretched palm. She watched him gingerly as he wiped the crook of her elbow clean, his eyes flicking to hers for a moment as he readied the needle.

"One, two... three," Thomas counted gently as he gave her the jab and took the syringe away, rubbing his daughter's arm carefully. Edith smiled as Florrie exhaled shakily.

"You're very brave," she told her, meeting her eyes. Thomas nodded.

"That you are. Dr McMichael will be very pleased."

* * *

I love this version, and I think I'll continue to write it along with the other one :3 please let me know what you think! Thank you for your follows & favourites ^_^


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